Black Heart of Jamaica

  Black Heart

  of Jamaica

  JULIA GOLDING

  CAT IN THE CARIBBEAN

  First published 2008

  This edition published 2009

  by Egmont UK Ltd

  239 Kensington High Street, London W8 6SA

  Text copyright © 2008 Julia Golding

  The moral rights of the author have been asserted

  ISBN 978 1 4052 4373 5

  eISBN 978 1 7803 1136 4

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

  Printed and bound in Great Britain by CPI Books (Cox and Wyman)

  www.egmont.co.uk

  www.juliagolding.co.uk

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  For my brother, Robert

  CAT ROYAL SERIES

  The Diamond of Drury Lane – Cat in London

  (On the trail of a diamond mystery)

  Cat among the Pigeons – Cat goes to School

  (Pedro comes under threat from his old master)

  Den of Thieves – Cat in Paris

  (Cat takes up a new career in revolutionary France)

  Cat O’Nine Tails – Cat at Sea

  (Our heroine takes an unplanned journey across the Atlantic)

  Cat’s Cradle – Cat in Scotland

  (Cat goes in search of family)

  THE CRITICS

  ‘She is a tyger burning bright in the forests of literary night’ – WILLIAM BLAKE

  ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud until I came upon the host of her novels, all dancing with wit and vivacity’ – WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

  ‘Mademoiselle Royal strikes a blow for emancipation’ – TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE, SLAVE REVOLT LEADER ON SAN DOMINGO

  ‘A tissue of lies from start to finish: the black slaves in Jamaica are much better off under the enlightened rule of white masters. How dare she suggest otherwise!’ – BRYAN EDWARDS, JAMAICAN PLANTER AND HISTORIAN

  ‘What clearer evidence could one wish of the iniquity of the slave trade?’ – THOMAS CLARKSON, ABOLITIONIST

  ‘Never a discordant note’ – GEORGE BRIDGETOWER, AFRICAN VIRTUOSO VIOLINIST

  ‘Give Cat Royal your vote and I’ll kiss you!’ – GEORGINA, DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE, POLITICAL CAMPAIGNER

  ‘Another book from Cat Royal? She’s always worth a gamble.’ – JOHN MONTAGUE, THE FOURTH EARL OF SANDWICH

  ‘I prophesy great things from this girl before the advent of the millennium’ – JOANNA SOUTHCOTT, PROPHETESS

  ‘Her words weave a pleasing serpentine line through the landscape of the imagination’ – HUMPHRY REPTON, LANDSCAPE GARDENER

  ‘She gives me a heady dose of laughter, as potent as my own nitrous oxide’ – JOSEPH PRIESTLEY, NATURAL PHILOSOPHER, DISCOVERER OF LAUGHING GAS

  ‘On reflection, I think I’ve heard quite enough from this representative of the swinish multitude’ – EDMUND BURKE, POLITICIAN

  NOTE TO THE READER

  LIST OF PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS

  PROLOGUE

  Auditions

  Act I

  SCENE 1 Caribbean Sunshine

  SCENE 2 Kingston, Jamaica

  SCENE 3 Search for the Lost Sheep

  Act II

  SCENE 1 Sugar Cane

  SCENE 2 Explanations

  SCENE 3 Recruit

  Act III

  SCENE 1 Obeah Man

  SCENE 2 Old Master

  SCENE 3 Your Servant, Sir

  Act IV

  SCENE 1 Malaria

  SCENE 2 Pirate

  SCENE 3 Merry Meg

  Act V

  SCENE 1 Toussaint’s Army

  SCENE 2 Sweet Ending

  EPILOGUE

  Triangular Trade

  CAT’S GLOSSARY

  NOTE TO THE READER

  Reader,

  In polite company, it is expected that a guide introduce themselves. Allow me to do so now. My name is Cat Royal, daughter of parents unknown, formerly a ward of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London. Imagine we have bobbed curtseys, bowed, shaken hands – now, Reader, we can be friends and I can take you into my confidence.

  Until a year ago, I knew little about the world beyond the confines of Covent Garden; now I find myself in the New World, visiting people and places I barely knew existed. I have discovered as rich and colourful a society as that which I am used to back home, also with its underclass hidden from upper class eyes. If you wish to follow me on this adventure into the black heart of Jamaica, you must promise not to make assumptions about people due to class, language or colour of skin. I am confident you can manage this: after all, by now you will have learned not to judge me.

  Cat Royal

  PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS

  IN PHILADELPHIA

  Miss Cat Royal – Fledgling actress and your guide

  Mr Pedro Amakye – African violinist, former slave, a good friend

  Frank (The Earl of Arden) – son of a duke, reluctant to take up his title

  Mrs Lizzie Fitzroy – sister to Frank, now wife to…

  Mr Johnny Fitzroy – ex-British lord, American citizen, artist

  Miss Catherine Fitzroy – their daughter, and my goddaughter

  Mr Syd Fletcher – old friend with a powerful punch

  IN JAMAICA

  Mrs Peabody – fearsome manager of acting ensemble

  Miss Hetty Peabody – her untalented but pretty daughter

  Miss Georgina Atkins (Georgie) – friendly mulatto actress from Antigua, my friend

  Mr Jim Brown – Bostonian flautist

  Mr Billy Shepherd – old enemy turned planter

  Captain Bonaventure – unreliable French captain of the Medici

  Mr Kingston Hawkins – Pedro’s old master, and a nasty piece of work

  Miss Jenny – a slave with a new mistress

  Mr Moses – her father, slave on Billy’s estate

  Obeah man – wise man of the black community

  Mrs Cookie – kindly slave in Mr Hawkins’ household

  Miss Rafie – capable nurse

  Mr Dawlish – deeply unpleasant overseer

  ON THE MERRY MEG

  Captain Ol Tivern – smuggler with a soft heart

  Mr Kai – Chinese cook

  Mr Mickey – bloodthirsty bosun

  IN SAN DOMINGO

  Mr Caesar – courageous driver of the mules

  Colonel Deforce – rebel leader of the arms train

  Mr Pitt – fatally obstinate mule

  Jamaican theatre-goers, rebel soldiers, drunken sailors, etc., etc.

  Philadelphia, United States of America,

  June 1792 – Curtain rises.

  AUDITIONS

  This is the story of how I, Cat Royal, became a pirate.

  Reader, before you throw up your hands in horror at this scandalous confession or call the constable, I rush to assure you that my piracy was entirely accidental. When my adventures in the Caribbean began, I had absolutely no intention of pursuing this path; unfortunatel
y events conspired against me, resulting in this most unexpected twist of fate.

  The beginnings of my West Indian tale were impeccably correct, which makes the descent into piracy even more surprising, not least to myself. It began with the search for employment. Having foiled a plot to do away with Lord Francis, the son of the Duke of Avon, my friends and I had ended up in Philadelphia on the east coast of America.* It was now high time I decided what to do with my future. Should I head home to England with Lord Francis (that’s Frank to you and me) and Syd, both of whom had their lives to resume after the unplanned adventure aboard His Majesty’s ship Courageous? Or should I stay in America with Frank’s sister, Lizzie, and her husband, Johnny? As the weeks passed, I realized that I had no desire to be at a loose end in their household. Quite understandably, they were absorbed in each other and their newborn and did not need me underfoot. But neither was I ready yet to return home to England. I felt as if my true life waited but I was not sure where.

  ‘Cat, if you’re determined to work,’ declared Frank as we sat in the parlour of his sister’s snug little house on Market Street one sunny afternoon, ‘you’ll need to decide on a career.’

  He was a pretty sight, nursing his one-month-old niece on his shoulder as her tiny fists gripped a lock of his curly dark hair. With his long limbs and twinkling blue eyes, I predicted that my noble friend would break many hearts on his return to England – particularly if they saw how good he was in the nursery. The Mamas would be moving heaven and earth to wed their daughters to one of England’s most eligible young bachelors.

  Yet while his future was certain – to be the fox to all the husband-hunting debutantes for the next few years – mine was far less settled.

  ‘But what can I do?’ I asked, throwing aside the newspaper. I’d been skimming it for news of the revolution in France.

  ‘Well, let me think.’ Frank gave me a smug smile as little Catherine drifted off to sleep under his soothing touch. ‘You can pretend to be a boy convincingly, you dance well, sing passably, write amusingly; I’ve seen you climb the rigging like a seasoned salt, and ride bareback like a native – Cat, there really is no end to your talents. And you also speak at least two foreign languages.’

  Entering from the kitchen, Lizzie kissed her brother on the top of the head; Johnny followed carrying the tea tray.

  ‘You’ve a masterful touch with babies, Frank,’ she commended her brother. ‘What I shame I can’t hire you as a nursemaid.’

  Lizzie looked very pretty with her long chestnut locks caught up in a practical chignon and a white apron protecting her light blue day dress. Her new role as American wife and mother was quite a climb down from her days as a British duke’s daughter with hundreds of servants at her beck and call, but the change seemed to suit her. She’d never been one to stand on ceremony; after all, she had befriended me.

  ‘Sorry, Lizzie, but as much as such skills are worthy of a duke-in-training, I feel a perverse desire to take up my place at Cambridge instead.’ Frank rubbed his cheek against the soft hair of the baby. ‘Tempting though the offer is.’

  ‘And Father wants you to assume your proper title now you’re at an age to go out into society,’ Lizzie reminded him.

  Frank groaned.

  ‘The Earl of Arden?’ I prompted, remembering his title from our time in Bath.

  ‘I much prefer “Frank” but it won’t do back home.’ Frank sighed at the thought. ‘Mama delayed the day as long as possible for me but now I’ll have to resign myself to answering to a name that sounds like a coaching inn.’

  ‘A very superior coaching inn,’ I consoled him. ‘Do you want me to call you Arden, or would you prefer Lord Dog and Duck, or perhaps Lord Jolly Boatman?’

  He chuckled. ‘None of the above, thank you, Cat. And the day you refer to me as Arden is the day I start calling you Miss Royal. I insist that you at least stick with Frank.’

  The matter of titles settled to our mutual satisfaction, Johnny returned to the conversation that had been interrupted by the entry of the tea service.

  ‘So what were you saying to Cat about talents?’ he asked as I cleared a space for the tray among the litter of his drawing things.

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Frank seeks to persuade me that I am eminently employable.’

  To my surprise, Lizzie nodded her agreement. ‘Quite right too. You have many skills; you just need to find a suitable situation.’

  ‘Not that you have to work,’ Frank chipped in. ‘You know my parents will look after you.’

  My pride bristled at the suggestion. ‘I don’t need looking after – well, not much,’ I added, remembering how the Avons had taken me in after Drury Lane had been demolished.

  Johnny chuckled. ‘I’m sure you don’t, Catkin. You are a very capable young lady – you’ve proved that on the high seas and in the wilds of America. But you should also know that you are welcome to stay here as long as you have need.’

  ‘And don’t forget that Syd wants you to go home with him,’ Frank said quietly for my ears only as Lizzie rattled the tea cups.

  I knew full well what he meant. Syd, my oldest friend from Covent Garden, was determined not to let me out of his sight again, not since I had jumped ship from under his nose and given him months of heartache when he believed me lost for good. But his plans for me led to a future marriage and life as a butcher’s wife, something I was not remotely ready to consider – not yet anyway.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be wrapped in cotton wool and that’s exactly what Syd will do to me; I want to stand on my own two feet – prove to myself that I can make my own way.’

  Lizzie poured the tea with efficient grace. ‘Speaking of which, where are Syd and Pedro?’

  ‘At the docks,’ said Frank, helping himself to a biscuit that he somehow managed to eat without getting crumbs on Catherine. ‘I asked them to find out which ships are in harbour. If I’m to go up in Michaelmas term, I have to leave as soon as possible.’

  ‘And what about Pedro? Has he decided to go too?’ Johnny asked, toying with his pen. His long fingers never bearing to be idle for long, he picked up a piece of paper and began to sketch his brother-in-law with his baby daughter.

  ‘He’s waiting for Cat’s decision,’ Frank replied. ‘Make sure you catch my best side, Johnny.’

  ‘You don’t have one, Lord Dog and Duck,’ Johnny replied with a wink at me. He was taking his role of teasing older brother-in-law to heart. ‘So, Catkin, what’s it to be?’

  I spread my hands empty in front of me. ‘Any suggestions?’

  ‘You’re far too young for a governess,’ mused Lizzie as she stirred cream into her tea.

  ‘And the strain of behaving would probably kill you,’ muttered Frank. Lizzie swatted his leg, but from her smile I could tell she agreed. For that matter, so did I.

  ‘I would’ve thought the answer was fairly obvious,’ said Johnny, scrutinizing his quick drawing.

  What could he mean? There were few professions open to women: teacher, maid . . .

  ‘Surely not a seamstress!’ I gasped.

  ‘No!’ my three friends said in unison. Then we all laughed. My sewing skills were infamous.

  Johnny laid aside his portrait and flipped the newspaper over to the classified advertisements. He pointed to an announcement with the end of his pen. ‘Take a look at that. You have years of experience at Drury Lane, Cat. A theatrical company here would welcome you with open arms.’

  I studied the page. Philadelphia had a lively social scene with a number of companies providing drama and musical entertainments. Indeed, only last week I had been to a passable production of Dryden’s All for Love. Now it seemed that one of those companies was taking on new members:

  The Peabody Theatrical Ensemble

  Is proud to

  Announce its Summer Tour

  Engagements already secured in the West Indies. Ladies and Gentlemen of outstanding abilities sought.

  Recruiting now.

  It sounded
very grand, but I had my suspicions. Even the top theatres of the world like Drury Lane and Covent Garden were somewhat – all right, very – moth-eaten when examined in the light of day. This ensemble was likely to be three stage-struck fools and a cart of props. I read the advertisement again with greater care. Or perhaps not. If they already had engagements organized abroad, that suggested proper management: the Peabody Ensemble might be worth a closer look.

  ‘You think they’ll take me on?’ I asked dubiously.

  ‘I’m sure you stand an excellent chance,’ Johnny confirmed. ‘You have experience both on and off stage; you’re just what a small company like that needs for a tour, able to turn your hand to anything. And it’s not forever. It’ll give you a taste of the life and you can make a final decision as to whether it’s the career for you when you return here in the autumn.’

  He was right. It was the perfect opportunity for me to test the waters. I had always seen my future as being bound up with the theatre, but the closure of Drury Lane had prematurely cut off those hopes. Now I had a chance to get back into that life.

  My face must have betrayed my excitement for my friends exchanged pleased looks.